“The terms and conditions of a relationship determine the nature of the relationship.”

This is true. For example, think about the employers you’ve had in your life. Managers like to boast about having an “open door” policy. Yet it doesn’t take more than a week or two before you figure out there are two kinds of open door policy. The first one is a manager who invites your feedback, respects your viewpoint and values your contributions to the company.

The second one is a boss whose actions say, “My door is always open for you to come in and see my closed mind.”

The terms and conditions of a relationship determine the nature of the relationship. The manager who seeks out and values the input of the employees creates a relationship environment of team work and free flowing ideas. The boss who doesn’t creates a relationship environment of stunted communication and self-preservation.

The terms and conditions of the relationship determine the nature of the relationship.

When it comes to your relationship with God, whose terms and conditions are you operating by? Yours? Or God’s?

The distinction is crucial.

Some of us are operating by terms and conditions that view God as the divine policeman who waits for us to do something wrong so He can write us up. We live our lives walking on spiritual eggshells, afraid to risk or chance or dream for fear of messing up and incurring God’s wrath.

Some of us are operating from terms and conditions determined by our bad church experiences. People within the church have disappointed us. Or worse, wounded us. Perhaps pastors or leaders have abused our trust by taking liberties with their position. Living by these terms, we approach God with suspicion thinking it only a matter of time before He, too, will disappoint us.

Some of us are operating from terms and conditions imposed on us from our upbringing. Perhaps our parents’ view of God was extreme to one direction or the other. Years later, God to us is either a wholly unapproachable fire and brimstone Diety or our heavenly Fuzzy Buddy. Our terms and conditions have us viewing God as a single facet, ignoring the whole of who He is.

Some of us are operating from terms of guilt and shame. Our sins, we think, are impossibly large and unforgiveable. And should we manage to summon the courage to seek God’s forgiveness for these, we think it best not presume upon Him after that. For to do so would be asking one too many favors. So we live each day at a lonely distance from God, like a stray dog starving for attention, yet afraid to come close.

The terms and conditions of a relationship determine the nature of the relationship. When it comes to your relationship with God, what terms and conditions are you living by? Yours? Or God’s?

The flip side of Dr. Wakefield’s bookmark reads:

“The Lord is gracious and compassionate, slow to anger and abounding in lovingkindness.” – Psalm 145:8

These are God’s terms and conditions for His relationship with us. God is gracious. He extends to us blessings we don’t deserve. He is compassionate. Which is to say He knows what we’re made of because He made us. And because of that He cares for us as a loving Father cares for his children. How would your relationship with God change if you understood His heart toward you is always gracious and full of compassion?

God is slow to anger. He is not a heavenly hot-head with a hair trigger. How would your relationship with God change if you understood God is patient with you?

God abounds in lovingkindness toward us. Lovingkindness. In Hebrew, the word is “chesed”. It means a “loyal love”. A love that won’t quit on you. A love that is bulldog tenacious. A love that latches on to you and will not let you go. Ever.

According to God’s terms and conditions, His lovingkindness to you is abounding. We don’t use that word often but it’s wonderful in context here.  It means to “exist in large quantities.” So to paraphrase God’s terms and conditions, “God is kind beyond reason, understanding beyond measure, incredibly patient and loves you with overflowing large quantities of tenacious loyal love that will not let you go. Ever.”

When we allow God to define Himself and His relationship to us by His terms and conditions we experience the grace, acceptance, love and freedom He desires for us.

Whose terms and conditions would you rather live with? Yours? Or God’s? You get to choose. I’d choose for you but I can’t. It’s up to you.

So I’ll just encourage you to make your own bookmark. And think about getting it laminated.

That’s what I’m doing.

“The Lord is gracious and compassionate, slow to anger and abounding in lovingkindness.” – Psalm 145:8

Todd A. Thompson – ASliceOfLifeToGo.com

I asked the dog’s name and my neighbor told the story.

“A friend of mine told me about this dog. It wasn’t in a very good home. The family that had it didn’t treat it well. They also had little kids who kept carrying the dog around by its ears. They couldn’t get the kids to stop so the dog had to go.”

“When I agreed to take the dog, I asked what its name was. My friend wouldn’t tell me. “They called it a nasty name”, she said. I asked her to tell me anyway and she refused.”

“It was obvious the dog had been abused because it acted afraid and just cowered all the time. So here I am bringing home a dog who’s scared, who I need to get to trust me and I don’t even know his name.”

“I felt silly and not very nice doing it, but I started saying all the bad words I could think of to see if the dog responded. Nothing.”

“Then a couple nights ago I was watching a TV show. One of the characters was named “Tucker.” The first time an actor in the show said, “Tucker”, the dog’s ears perked up and he ran to the TV, jumping up and down. Every time someone said, “Tucker” he just danced.”

“I looked at the dog and said, “Well, I guess we figured out what bad name they’ve been calling you. But since “Tucker” seems to work for you, that’s good enough for me.”

She picked him up and rubbed his head. “Now that he has a name, he’s a different dog.”

As if on cue, Tucker growled and barked at a German Shepard across the street.

It’s been said that the sweetest sound a person can hear is the sound of their own name.  Setting aside those nauseating narcissists who glory in their vanity and flatterers who use people’s names to get what they want, I think the statement is true. There’s something about the sound of a name, especially when we hear our own.

I volunteer at my daughters’ first grade classes on Friday mornings. It’s been important for me to learn the names of their classmates. Sometimes sitting with them at lunch I’ll “test” myself in front of them, even though I know their names.

“Let’s see, I hope I can remember…Melissa, M.J., Savannah, Wyatt, Belle, Alize, Justin, Emily G., Adara, and let’s see, what was your name again? Was it Fred? Billy? Mike? No, it’s Jonah!”

And Jonah laughs and smiles because he knows I know his name and he’s so pleased that I remember.

When I play the name game with them I’m always fascinated by the expression on their face right before I say their name. Even though we’ve played the game tens of times, there’s a look of anxious anticipation, and in their eyes a hopeful question mark. “He will remember, won’t he? I hope he remembers.”

And when I do and they hear the magic syllables that set them apart from everyone else; they exhale the breath they’ve been holding and smile big missing front teeth smiles. Because they’ve been identified. Their name means something and in the saying of it I have validated them. “You are Melissa.” “You are Jonah.”

It’s the same reason Tucker danced in front of the TV when he heard what he thought was his name. We all want to be validated. That we are real. That we exist. That we are important.

It seems that names are significant to God as well. He named His creation. “God hung the stars in the sky and calls them all by name” (Isaiah 40:26) One would have to be creative to name untold trillions of stars. God gave Adam the responsibility of naming the animals in the Garden of Eden (Genesis 2:19-20). He calls His people Israel by name and by His own name (Isaiah 43:1-7).

Jesus said that He calls His sheep, those who belong to Him, by name (John 10:3). And when He does He leads them out, going ahead of them. And those who are His follow Him because they know His voice.

Lots of people know my name. Yours, too. Family, friends, co-workers, even direct mail companies who program their pitch letters to insert your name automatically throughout the text to make you feel like they know you.

But the fact God knows our name should make us feel like Tucker in front of the TV. We are real to God. We exist. Created in His image, male and female, we are valuable and important in His sight. God validates us when He says, “I know your name. You are mine.”

Today don’t just say “hi” to the teller at the bank, the cashier at the grocery store or the server at the restaurant. Take note of the badge pinned to their shirt and say the name. And when you do, remember God knows their name, too.

And if the name on the badge happens to be “Tucker”, tell the story about my neighbor’s dog. It just might make them smile.

“He calls His own sheep by name and leads them out. When He has brought out all His own, He goes on ahead of them, and His sheep follow Him because they know His voice.” – John 10:3-4

For him, it was. A rooster.

In a metro area of 3 million people I’m being jarred from sleep by a rooster. Try telling your 12-year old dog who’s never even seen a chicken that it’s nothing to get excited about.

The lot behind my house is known around here as a “horse property”. Even though the city has grown up around it, it’s still under zoning that allows for animals. This particular family keeps a cow or two, several horses, the occasional sheep and goat, and now apparently a rooster and some chickens.

Next morning at 4 AM, same Green Acres wake up call. This can’t be happening.

Didn’t hear the rooster again after that. Bumped into the owner a few days later. He said, “Had to get rid of it. Too many people complaining. So I just kept the chickens.”

One of the chickens thought the grass might be greener on the other side of the alley and made a break for it. She made herself at home in my next door neighbor’s yard and never left.

They call her “Henny Penny”. A beautiful bird, as chickens go. All black and all attitude. Henny Penny rules the roost. Which is impressive, seeing as how they also have three big dogs and a tom cat.

According to my neighbor Donna, “She flew in over the fence one day and just sat up in the tree. I thought the dogs would kill her as soon as she hit the ground. But she has no fear. She made a nest and lays eggs in the oleander bush. She hangs out with the dogs and comes in the back door with them to eat out of their dish.  The kicker for me was when I came out one morning and saw Henny Penny and the tom cat sitting next to each other on the porch. She’s got attitude for sure.”

Henny Penny’s a chicken. Which is a bird. Which is a cat’s lunch. So either Henny Penny has above average relational skills or she communicates an intimidating self-assurance. Watching her strut across my driveway from time to time, I can see why the cat would choose to peacefully co-exist.

Chickens aren’t what we normally look to as examples of bravado, but I’m learning something from Henny Penny. Something about confidence.
 
Life being what it is, we all get run over sooner or later. Maybe it’s a situation that didn’t turn out well and you’ve assumed the negative end result as your identity going forward. Maybe someone’s been giving you a verbal and emotional beat down over a long period of time and the only thing you feel confident doing is opening a bag of chips and hiding from the world. Maybe it’s something that’s your fault and God’s forgiven and forgotten but you’re stuck in the mud of your mistake; unable to forgive yourself. Whether the bus ran you over or you were driving when it crashed, you’re stuck. Spinning your wheels, pinned down by guilt and fear.

When we’re beat down, it’s easy to feel like we have nothing to offer. Humanly speaking, that’s true. The Bible says that “we all sin and fall short of the glory of God”. On our own merit, we bring nothing to God’s table. Were that the end of it, we’d all be doomed to a life of futility.

But God goes on to say that when we believe in Jesus and His sacrificial death on the cross, we are “a new creation”. We are no longer defined by our human failings. We are now defined by who we are in Christ; a person forgiven, saved, justified, and standing tall in the grace of God. Because of what God did we are “no longer under a spirit of bondage again to fear” but rather should possess the confidence of God’s children; fully adopted, fully accepted and fully loved. (Romans 8:15-17)

Henny Penny doesn’t act like a chicken.

Neither should we.

“For God has not given us a spirit of timidity, but of power and love and discipline.” – 2 Timothy 1:7

That’s why it was so confusing to me when he painted over the entire frame with a cheap can of olive green spray paint.

“Are you crazy?!! Why in the world would you do that? Why would you ruin that gorgeous metallic blue paint job?”

His answer?

“This is all I’ve got to get me from coast to coast. If the bike looks expensive, someone will want to steal it. If they steal it, my trip is over. If it’s ugly, everyone will think it’s junk and leave it alone. I don’t care how it looks. I care how it works.”

“Okay, okay, I get it. But that metallic blue was so cool. Couldn’t you have saved the paint job and just bought a really big padlock?”

He laughed and pedaled away. The bike must have been sufficiently ugly as he completed his Pacific to Atlantic tour without incident.

We live in a culture where image is everything. Looks are more than important. They are essential to success. At least that’s the premise incessantly sold to us. The right toothpaste, deodorant, shampoo, clothes, car and credit card will bring more of everything wonderful into our lives. Looking good is the key to landing a new job, getting promoted, and finding that special relationship. And if one is able to associate with other people who look good, so much the better. When Calvin Klein Gucci Obsession Lexus people network with Armani Rolex Louie Vuitton Crest White Strips Mercedes people, corporate success is sure to follow.

No one disputes the importance of personal hygiene and presenting well. Yet at some point, isn’t it worth asking what it is we’re dressing up?

It would be simplistic to say that the two kinds of people in the world are metallic blue and olive green. Both paint jobs can cover quality or cover junk. Sometimes what you see is what you get. Sometimes what you see is not what you get. Appearances can be deceiving in both directions. No person is entirely good or entirely bad. Curiously enough, God thinks we’re all worth redeeming regardless of our paint job. And He seems to care more about our being top of the line in how we work rather than how we look.

That’s especially true in how we treat one another as human beings.

Greet one another. Encourage one another. Serve one another. Pray for one another. Bear one another’s burdens. Forbear one another. Forgive one another. Cry with one another. Rejoice with one another. Admonish one another. Exhort one another. Spur one another on to love and good deeds. Be kind to one another. Treat one another in the same way that you would like to be treated.

That last one is golden. 

Let’s think about our paint job today and ask ourselves, “Is it covering quality? Or covering junk?” If it’s covering quality, it doesn’t matter if it’s metallic blue or olive green. If it’s covering junk, let’s strip the paint and work on the frame.

Given a choice, how it works is more important than how it looks.

“…for God sees not as man sees, for man looks at the outward appearance, but the Lord looks at the heart.” – 1 Samuel 16:7

“I need sleep. I’m not getting enough. When I can’t fully recharge with a good night’s sleep, work is overwhelming.”

“I’d love to take a nap. But I have so much to do that I feel guilty taking one.”

That’s what I heard today from three different people. Can you relate?

Last summer our immediate and extended family gathered in Texas for a few days. Amarillo isn’t terribly scenic, unless you’re a fan of endless wide open flat space. I’ve seen parking lots with more hills. Yet the change of scenery was good for me. There’s something about a road trip beyond your own city limits that helps you relax. Even familiar things are better on the road. DQ’s all use the same recipe for their ice cream but for some reason a Chocolate Covered Cherry Blizzard at the Dairy Queen in Holbrook just tastes better. Driving down I-40, watching the sunset in the rear view mirror as the moon came up over New Mexico, I was able to unwind a bit.

I arrived back home a few days later to find that my air conditioner decided to take a vacation, too. The internal fan blower had burned out. It was 94 degrees in the house. This is Phoenix and everyone knows it’s a dry heat. Funny how a dry heat can make you sweat so much. An expert repairman and $327 later, the Freon was once again pumping through the coils and the new fan blower was working to cool down the house.

That’s when I noticed the top of my piano. Draped over the photo of my great grandparents was a tired looking candle. It was standing tall when I left. Now it looked exhausted. Prolonged 94 degree temperatures will do that to a candle. A few days of constant heat and it can’t stand up anymore.

We are a culture of perpetual motion. If we aren’t going to, we are coming from, before heading off to the next so we can get back in time for the last. We wear “busy” as a badge of honor. Activity equals worth. Or so we tell ourselves. “Doing” has become our identity. If you think differently, what are the first three questions you ask of someone newly introduced to you?

What is your name?

Where do you live?

What do you do?

If the answer to the latter is a title dripping with importance and loaded with intrinsic activity, are we not impressed? We understand doing. We can relate to doing. The fact that we feel more confident when we can boast in our high activity is proof that busyness is tied to our identity. Being able to list our accomplishments, be they heroic or mundane, is one way we justify our place on the planet. Our conversations with others are often a recital of tasks completed and jobs unfinished.

When’s the last time one of your “what did you do this week?” conversations include the book you’re reading? The time spent in your garden? The time spent sitting in your backyard watching the squirrels and the hummingbirds?

I know, it’s been a while for me, too.

Certainly living a responsible life includes the duties of work and caring for others. God wants us to be good stewards of our time and talents. He appreciates hard work and honest effort. But God knows that non-stop activity in the schedule creates heat. Constant heat will at some point cause a meltdown. That’s why God built one day of rest into the week. One day in seven to not “do”. A day to just “be”. If God thinks rest is a good idea, why don’t we take Him up on it?

Sometimes life comes at us in bursts and flurries and leave us more drained than usual. Pastor Hank Elgersma, now enjoying the wonders of heaven, once offered wise counsel to me during a particularly stressful time in my life. He said, “Todd, sometimes the most godly thing you can do for yourself and everyone else is go take a nap.” He was right.

As you go through this week, be aware that “doing” isn’t a substitute for “being”. You’ll never get everything done. There will be unfinished tasks in your in-box the day you die. Your worth isn’t based on what you do. Your worth is established by God. He loves you unconditionally. And He knows your frame. He didn’t build you to serve a non-stop schedule. He knows that regular rest will keep your internal fan blower from burning out.

So make time this week to do something godly for yourself and everyone around you.

Go take a nap.

It’s more fun than a meltdown.

“…so on the seventh day God rested from all His work. And God blessed the seventh day and made it holy because on it He rested from all the work of creating that He had done.” – Genesis 2:2-3